


Making Amends

by Melodious329



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-09
Updated: 2011-10-09
Packaged: 2017-10-24 10:58:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/262706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melodious329/pseuds/Melodious329
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Xmen_firstkink on livejournal for this prompt:  Beast!Hank goes into heat and rapes Alex. Will this destroy the fragile new friendship they've established, and Hank's hopes of more? Knotting and biting welcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Amends

It’s an admirable idea to make the mansion into a school for mutants, but Hank is starting to think that it’s not really the best idea. Since the unfortunate incidents at the beach (when “those whose names are not spoken” left), there have been a few mishaps.

There was the time that Alex surprised Sean and the youngest mutant let out an ear-splitting and glass-breaking shriek. Charles was gone to town for a physician’s appointment and the two boys had come to the lab with blood soaking the collar of Alex’s shirt. Hank’s hand shook when he picked the pieces of glass out of the back of Alex’s neck, but Charles had said later that it was a good exercise for fine motor control.

And then there was the time that Alex set fire to half the trees on the grounds. Hank still isn’t totally sure how it happened. He only knew that he and Sean had been running laps on the grounds together because Sean wouldn’t run if no one went with him, and then Alex came bursting out of the mansion. Charles was right behind him but Charles’s wheelchair couldn’t follow onto the grass. Hank saw Charles touch his fingertips to his temple…and then circles of red were exploding out of Alex.

Alex spent the better part of two days in the bunker after that incident. Hank knows because he sat outside the door most of the time. But Alex would simply step over him as he left to go to the bathroom. Finally, Charles cornered Alex and they must have reached an understanding.   
Besides Hank thinks, there are some good things about it being only the four of them. Charles spends more time with them, and talks to Hank about the specifics of building of a new Cerebro. And now Hank knows that Sean is actually very humorous. And Alex…Hank really enjoys the additional time with Alex. Strangely, the blonde mutant seems to respect Hank more now that he’s blue, even hanging out in the lab with him sometimes. Alex still calls him Beast, still makes the occasional disparaging comment on Hank’s research, but now it seems much less heated and more like Alex just doesn’t know what else to say.

Hank is still getting used to his new mutation, his strength and heightened senses. Lately it seems that Alex’s smell is everywhere. And in the last few days, Hank has found himself unconsciously leaning into that smell and embarrassingly into Alex. He doesn’t remember how or why he’s ended up standing in front of Alex’s door, that smell like a siren’s call.

He doesn’t know if he opened the door, but all of a sudden, he’s in Alex’s room, looking at Alex’s surprised face on the other side of the bed. But it’s like the bed isn’t even there as Hank vaults over it, landing on top of Alex, pushing the smaller mutant face first to the ground.

Alex is moving underneath him, struggling, but Hank barely notices. Alex’s movements are useless against Hank’s greater strength, larger body, and heavier weight. Intent on Alex’s scent, Hank snuffles his nose through blonde hair, but as he gets further down the Alex’s neck the smell of cotton, of detergent irritates him.

His claws easily rip through the clothes, tearing them off of Alex, his mate his brain supplies. He can hear Alex making high pitched noises, but he can’t focus to understand if they’re words, not with Alex’s skin brushing up against the fur on his front as the younger mutant squirms, not with that smell getting stronger.

Hank wraps his arms around Alex’s torso, one hand gripping Alex’s shoulder, pressing Alex into the floor, and the other wrapped around a tiny waist. He pulls Alex’s hips up, diving his face between creamy white thighs where that maddening smell is strongest.

Sniffing up along his mate’s exposed crack, Hank feels his mate trying to whack him with a hand. Growling menacingly, he sinks his fans into the meaty cheek of Alex’s ass in warning.

His mate goes suddenly still so Hank laves the bleeding bite with his tongue before kneeling up. Spitting into his hand, he rubs the slight slick on his hard dick and lines up with that tiny hole.

Alex screams, his struggles wild as Hank shoves his dick in, pulling back on his mate’s shoulder. The friction is almost too much, so tight, and it’s like Hank is burning up. He’s clawing at his mate’s shoulders, trying to get further in, trying to thrust harder.

But he slows when his mate starts to turn red, glowing, his skin getting hotter and hotter. Needing his mate to submit, Hank fists one huge   
hand in blonde hair and yanks Alex’s head back. He bites into Alex’s throat, fangs gripping a taut tendon in warning. It’s not enough to damage his mate, but enough to show his dominance. Slowly, the red heat dies away.

Triumphant, Hank’s thrusts get faster, slamming into his mate’s tiny body now still and lax beneath him. His hands are now gripping his mate’s fragile wrists, crushing them into the carpeted floor. It’s getting harder to thrust, his dick seemingly gripped by the tight hole now like his dick is getting bigger. No, it’s his knot, Hank realizes.

It’s never happened before, but in that moment, it doesn’t surprise Hank. It feels…right even as his mate whimpers beneath him. Shifting, Hank kneels up, gripping slim hips again, just rocking his knot inside his mate now, his dick pulsing, on and on.

Hank’s mouth drops open, this low constant groan coming from him, as unstoppable as his cum filling up his mate, incoherent with pleasure. His mate’s unconscious now, eyes closed as Hank drops down onto the slimmer body, getting comfortable himself, drifting on endorphins.   
***

Hank comes back to himself some time later, groggy and uncoordinated, lax with residual pleasure that he can’t understand for a minute. Then he remembers.

Horrified, he immediately tries to get up, only to realize his dick is still in Alex’s hole. Carefully, Hank pulls out and looks down on Alex. The blonde mutant is thankfully still unconscious, his back a mess of bleeding scratches, purpling bruises on his shoulders, on his wrists with his hands still trying to clench onto the carpet. Hank’s hand makes an aborted motion, almost attempting to fit his hand over the finger-shaped bruises on Alex’s hips, unable to believe that it was really him.

And then Hank looks down further. Alex’s perfectly white thighs are splattered with drops of bright red blood, and his hole…his hole still gapes open, copious amounts of pearlescent cum leaking out.

Hank thinks he might puke and he covers his mouth with a hand as he looks away, back toward Alex’s relaxed face. That’s when he notices the blood on Alex’s throat.

“No, no,” Hank mumbles. He shakes Alex with a hand on the mutilated back, terrified at the idea that maybe Alex isn’t breathing, maybe he…

Alex coughs a little, draws in a ragged breath, moaning pitifully as he sleepily attempts to move. Hank pulls back his hand, holds his breath.

Trying to push himself up a little, Alex shakes his head before he goes stock still. Then Alex is scrambling away from him, crawling across the carpet to the nearby corner.

Alex is trembling as he cowers there with blood trickling down his throat, gleaming cum slicking his inner thighs. But he’s panting too hard, his chest rising and falling as quickly as a hummingbird’s wings. He’s hyperventilating.

“Breathe, you have to breathe,” Hank says, his voice tight and squeaky. His hand reaches out…

“Don’t!” Alex screams out, his body getting red immediately, his power rising up, dangerous and uncontrollable. “Don’t touch me!”

Alex’s hands go to his chest like he can keep it in that way, and tears start to leak down Alex’s face.

“Get out!” Alex screams again. “Get OUT!”

Hank stumbles to his feet, running out the door. He’s crying himself, tears dampening the fur on his face. Alex needs help, but Charles…  
Charles is in town at a physician’s appointment.

But there’s no other choice. With shaking hands, he dials the phone to call the physician’s office and asks for Charles.

“Charles…?” Hank questions, his voice wavering as much as his hands.

“Hank, what’s wrong?” Charles says, immediately responding to Hank’s fear.

“Come back. Please…Alex is…hurt,” Hank stumbles out, trying to figure out what to say. “I hurt Alex.”

Charles is silent for a moment, and Hank wonders whether the telepath can read his mind from this distance.

“I’ll have the driver take me back,” Charles finally says.

Hank nods, feeling guilty for this too that Charles has to leave his appointment. But Hank doesn’t know what else to do. He still can’t understand, can’t believe that he’s the one who hurt Alex. He’s never been violent, never wanted to hurt anyone, never even accidentally hurt anyone. It’s hard to even remember all of what happened, it seems to simply flow together in his mind.

Hank ends up waiting for Charles outside Alex’s room despite that Alex doesn’t want him there, just in case Alex needs help. He wait, lost in his thoughts, his worry for Alex, his guilt when Charles finally wheels up to Alex’s first floor bedroom.

Charles is breathing hard and Hank knows that he should have been at the front to help the professor wheel himself over here. But he couldn’t leave Alex.

“It’s going to be alright,” Charles says, trying to be comforting. But it’s obvious that Charles is anxious to see to Alex.

As Charles pushes open the door to Alex’s room, Hank can’t help but sneak a glance inside. Alex is sitting in the middle of his bed, his knees tucked into his chest, his hair still wet presumably from the shower, his clothes covering up the evidence of Hank’s assault except for the white bandage on his throat.

Hank ducks back against the wall, keeping himself out of sight but listening through the still cracked-open door.

“Alex,” Charles starts out carefully, that soothing tone of voice that he’s so damn good at. “Hank told me…”

“I’m fine,” Alex interrupts. His low voice sounds normal, without any inflection or emotion, no trace of the tears or terror that was there earlier.

“Alex, it’s alright for you to be hurt, and scared. I need to see…”

Charles’s words trail off, but Hank doesn’t know why. He can only hear the sound of cloth rustling.

“Hank’s out there, isn’t he?” Alex suddenly says. “Hanks’s…”

The door is yanked open and suddenly Hank is face to face with Alex’s pale face, tense face. Hank’s horrified and scared, flinching back in   
expectation of Alex’s rage and hurt.

“It’s not your fault,” Alex says, his voice strong and without fear.

“I’m sorry,” Hank blurts out, sincerely remorseful. “I didn’t…I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t,” Hank rambles.

“I know,” Alex says, still seemingly unfazed. “It’s not like you killed anyone. I’m fine.”

Hank shakes his head, not understanding Alex’s seeming forgiveness. But Alex is now looking down at Charles.

“I just want to be alone,” Alex says, his voice suddenly so soft it’s hard to hear.

Charles nods. “Are you sure you don’t need a physician?” he asks.

Alex only shakes his head and shuts the door after them.   
***

Hank stares at the closed door for a moment before turning away. He’s surprised when he hears Charles calling his name.

Reluctantly, he turns around, waiting for Charles to wheel closer. “Hank, wait,” Charles pleads.

Hank looks away as Charles stops in front of him. “Alex is right,” Charles starts again. “It’s not your fault, Hank. Alex doesn’t blame you.”

Swallowing hard, Hank averts his eyes heavenward. “You didn’t…didn’t see what I did to him,” Hank growls low and pained.

But a glance at Charles’ guilty expression tells him that Charles did see, saw it in Hank’s own head. And that knowledge only makes Hank feel even more ashamed of himself. He can’t possibly say anything in response.

“Alex does know what it’s like to have a seemingly uncontrollable mutation. But being here, he learned control. You helped him gain control, Hank. And we’ll help you, too,” Charles says, and he’s so hopeful, so persuasive.

But Hank can’t be persuaded when that image of Alex terrified and ruined is still behind his eyelids. He turns away again, just wanting away from everyone. But before he walks away, he speaks over his shoulder, “Alex needs you.”

“Don’t destroy the lab!” Charles calls out after him as he reaches the outer door.

Hank hangs his head as he gets outside, the bright sun somehow indecent after all that’s happened. He needs to destroy something. His new mutation has brought out this anger in him, where before he had felt only sadness and fear. And right now his rage seems to fill him up like a   
cup. He’s angry at his mutation that made him a freak, angry at the world who rejected him, angry at himself for being so wrong about the ‘cure’ that now he couldn’t even leave the mansion.

Before he knows it, he’s in the bunker and looking at the three mannequins set up there. They make a satisfying crunch and snap as he tears off their limbs, crushes the plastic skulls in his hands.

He’s never had to control himself before, never had to worry about hurting anyone. It’s an entirely foreign concept to him. He never thought that he would ever, EVER hurt someone like he hurt Alex. It’s changed the way he sees himself, that he’s capable of such violence, of not just   
violence but of that violation. Were those urges hiding in him the whole time?

He sees again Alex’s battered, bruised, bleeding body, but it’s the memory of the anguish in Alex’s blue eyes that has Hank rushing up the stairs out of the bunker and bending over the bushes to empty his stomach. It’s like his inner organs are trying to escape the mess he’s made of himself too. He could never have even imagined Alex looking that hurt.

But afterward, once his stomach is empty and the anger has dissipated, his sense of responsibility comes out again. And Hank clings to it, clings to some kind of purpose. It’s not really fair for him to destroy the lab, to neglect the work that Charles assigned him.

Straightening up, he also realizes that he destroyed the mannequins that were meant for Alex. It feels somehow wrong that he unconsciously invaded Alex’s safe place, ruined the bunker, after what he did to Alex.

Chastened, Hank stands and goes back down to the bunker to clean up his mess.   
***

That evening, Hank is staring at the work he should be doing, plans for Cerebro, plans to make the mansion completely wheelchair accessible, plans for new suits, new experiments on all of their genetic codes…

The sound of the lab’s door opening has Hank jerking his head around with a snarl. He’s shocked to see Alex stiffly walking inside.

Tearing his gaze away, Hank breathes hard through his nose before glancing back at Alex. How can Alex stand to be near him?

“What are you doing?” Hank growls.

He sees Alex swallow at the sound before Alex meets his gaze challengingly, his strong jaw set. “What do I ever do in here?” he reaponds.

Casually, Alex turns away, picking up a petri dish and making a disgusted face at its contents.

Alex’s behavior leaves Hank reeling, thoughts tumbling through his mind too quickly for his mouth to keep up. “But after…what I did to you…” Hank sputters.

“Don’t,” Alex stops him with a growl of his own. “I told you, it’s not your fault.”

“How can it not be?!” Hank explodes, flinging the chair backwards as he stands and ignoring the way it makes Alex flinch. “When I caused this, I made myself a monster! If this is what I’m capable of, it’s a good thing that I’m blue and will never leave the mansion while the rest of you go back to your lives. You with your perfect good looks.”

He’s panting when he’s done and it’s loud in the sudden silence. He didn’t mean to attack Alex, but he’s so angry and Alex is there, Alex keeps pushing. Alex’s face looks set in stone and Hank doesn’t know what reaction to expect.

“You think I had a life? I was in prison,” Alex says, his voice low but more intense than Hank’s shouting.

Then Alex is suddenly taking off toward the door. Hank’s chair is blocking his way and Alex throws it out of the way, showing his own anger.   
But before he leaves, he turns back to Hank and say, “And believe me, my perfect good looks didn’t help me there.”

Hank jumps when the door slams and something glass hits the floor, shattering. It’s for the best, he tells himself. It’s good that Alex is finally pissed at him, hopefully pissed enough to stay away. He’s dangerous, particularly to Alex. It’s just ironic that Alex only wanted to be around him after he became dangerous, became Beast.   
***

The next day, Hank is torn between staying as far away from Alex as possible and stalking Alex to check on him. He doesn’t fully understand this seemingly overwhelming need to protect Alex when he’s the one Alex needs to be protected from. But he does know that Alex isn’t ‘fine’.

The next morning, Alex is just a little late to breakfast, just late enough for Hank to be worrying when the blonde walks in. Alex’s demeanor seems unchanged, but he rather pointedly does not sit down, leaning against the table and flitting over to the refrigerator to get more milk and juice. Knowing the reason why Alex isn’t sitting is enough to kill Hank’s now voracious appetite.

Sean, of course, asks about the bandage on Alex’s throat. Hank freezes in fear, closing his eyes in anticipation of Sean’s disgust once he knows. Disgust and rejection, Hank is intimately familiar with…

“Training accident,” Alex answers casually.

“The mannequins starting to fight back?” Sean quips.

Alex laughs, a genuine chuckle at the teasing. Hank is so relieved and confused that it’s not til later that Hank realizes that Alex didn’t eat anything.

Later, Charles excuses Alex from running laps and forbids him from using the weight room until he’s healed from his ‘training accident’. But Alex manages to successfully argue that he should still practice in the bunker. It reminds Hank that he should be busy making a moving target for Alex instead of spying on him.

But Hank stays. And he sees that Charles doesn’t let Alex practice long before he sends Sean down to the bunker. Charles makes both of the boys go inside to finish the studying that Charles is now assigning to the two boys. Knowing that Alex is inside with Charles, Hank forces himself to go to the lab.

That night, Alex doesn’t come to the lab. But Charles does. Hank knows that Charles is interested in his well-being, but Hank steers the conversation to topics like Cerebro and improvements to the mansion. Talking about what happened isn’t something that Hank wants to do.   
But as Alex’s physical wounds heal, his behavior seems to become increasingly erratic.

Alex is late to breakfast every day, always arriving with dark circles under his eyes like he hasn’t slept at all.

And Alex isn’t eating, which is a conspicuous abnormal. Alex normally piles his plate full with almost twice the amount of food that Hank used to eat, piling the plate like he was afraid that there’d be no second- helpings, no snacks later. Alex still puts food on his plate, but he just pushes it around. This new development shows in the gauntness of Alex’s face. The blonde mutant didn’t have any extra weight to lose.   
And suddenly, Alex just doesn’t want to do the things he used to like. He argues with Charles about having to run and frequently leaves the yard in a huff. Hank also sees Alex running out of the mansion when Hank knows that he and Sean are supposed to be studying. Sometimes he sees Charles chases after to the door before letting Alex go.

Alex spends a lot of time alone as far as Hank can tell, in the bunker mostly. But Hank knows that Alex isn’t practicing there because the red light stays off and the door stays cool to Hank’s fingertips.

But it’s not just Alex who’s changed. Sean spends a lot of his time alone now too. Hank sees the redhead wandering aimlessly out on the grounds, eating popcorn alone in front of the tv, sitting on the benches in the weight room because Alex isn’t there to make him work. Even Charles is affected, seeming even more frustrated and sad.

And all because of Hank. He’s never hurt anyone before. He’s spent his life being afraid of being hurt, and he’s used to that feeling of being unwanted and unloved, used to the crushing feeling of loneliness. But he’s never known this pain before, and it leaves him feeling shredded inside. Being afraid of himself is a lot different than when he was just afraid of what people think of him. Those old fears seem somehow insignificant in the face of this.

By the end of the week, Hank has to do something. He can’t stand watching how he’s hurt everyone. There’s a gnawing in his gut every time he looks at Alex, this need to hold Alex close, keep Alex safe.

He finds Alex sitting outside on the grass after dinner, seemingly engrossed in ripping up the grass. Coming from the side, Hank reaches out a hand to Alex’s shoulder…

Alex is flinching away from the touch at the same time that a single burst of energy demolishes a line of hedges. For a moment, they are both too shocked to move, but then Alex is twisting away, running to the shelter of the bunker, running away from Hank.

Hank looks down at his still outstretched hand, his hand that now inspires horror and fear in someone as strong as Alex. Then he’s runing after Alex. He can’t stand that look of fear and hurt on Alex’s face. He’d do anything to make it better, even leave.

Hank doesn’t even spare a glance at the light, but when he opens the door it’s to see Alex sitting against the back wall with his knees pulled up to his chest. He looks a lot like he did that morning after…after…

“Get out,” Alex says without heat.

“I-I just wanted to see if you’re ok?” Hank stutters out, unsure now that he’s confronted with Alex. He wants to run away himself.

“You don’t care,” Alex responds snidely. “You just feel guilty for something you couldn’t control.”

“I do care,” Hank admits quietly. He’s afraid to admit how much he cares, particularly now.

“I bet clown feet doesn’t seem like such a bad mutation now,” Alex sneers.

Hanks instinctively growls menacingly at the insult. But if Alex is trying to get rid of him, it’s not going to work. The blue mutation seems to have increased his stubbornness and he’s no longer going to be scared off by people’s comments.

“Why didn’t you use your mutation?” Hank asks the question that’s been on his mind. “To stop me.”

Alex huffs a sarcastic laugh. “And slice you into smithereens? Who’d make my suit then?”

Hank falls silent, his teeth bared at Alex still making fun of him. Alex always did know exactly where to press his buttons. But he’s starting to realize it’s some kind of defensive wall.

Alex tries to ignore him, but it seems that Hank’s very presence bothers him until finally he’s speaking again. “Look, you weren’t the first, ok? You don’t have to feel bad…”

“The first what?” Hank interrupts.

Alex drops his eyes. “You know, to fuck me or whatever. So stop feeling guilty and just leave me alone,” Alex’s voice is a harsh whisper at the end.

Hank’s growling again, at the thought of other hands on Alex, forcing Alex, making Alex look as abused as he did that morning. How could he and the other mutants not have known? How had Alex hidden the effects of something that horrible?

“You should have blasted me,” Hank growls, feeling more horrified of his actions now, violating someone already so vulnerable.

Alex’s face steels into an angry hard mask and in a flurry of movement, Alex pushes off the wall and is sprinting past Hank and out the bunker’s doors.

Hank runs up the stairs after Alex only for Alex to abruptly turn around and attack him. Alex pushes him as he starts to yell.

“Blast you, huh? Why didn’t I just kill you, you mean?! You have…no idea…I have killed people. I wanted to be in prison, even with those guys raping me. It’s not worth killing you just because you want to fuck me! Worth hurting the others, Sean and Charles and burning down the mansion, burning down this safe place for mutants…”

Alex breaks off, practically hyperventilating even as he continues pounding ineffectually on Hank’s now powerful chest. Hank feels like he’s looking at Alex for the first time, looking past the angry exterior that he assumed had protected him in prison.

Hank grabs hold of Alex’s shoulders, tries to pull Alex into a hug, but Alex won’t allow the comfort and pushes back so hard that he falls onto the ground.

“My mutation is only good for killing. I can’t even defend myself, and all those damn convicts saw was this scrawny kid with a pretty face,” Alex’s face screws up now, as if denying his own words.

“That’s not true,” Hank responds.

Alex looks up at him with a confused expression and Hank hurries to explain himself. “Your mutation...the plasma doesn’t have to kill.”

Alex’s expression doesn’t waver. “I can barely hit the target. I should just be sent back to prison,” Alex berates himself.

“No,” Hank says firmly, his confidence in his own scientific ability kicking in. “You’ll just have to practice. And I can make a better disc…”

“Really?” Alex asks suspiciously. But he apparently trusts more in Hank’s abilities than his own.

“Yes,” Hank answers, his voice now firm with his determination to help Alex, even though it wouldn’t make up for what he did, nothing ever would make up for that or for any of the others.

Hank starts to make his way towards the lab. “I have the material, I was going to make a new one anyway, and if I…” but he trails off when he realizes that it’s late at night now.

“You should go get some sleep,” Hank says gently. Alex looks far too weak now.

Alex pouts at being told what to do. “No, I’ll be fine,” he insists.

“You need rest if you want to want to practice tomorrow,” Hank tries again.

“You need rest too,” Alex fires back. “Before you go tinkering with the disc then.”

Hank sighs. He has always been able to go without sleep and it seems even easier now. But giving in is the only way that Alex might sleep.

“Ok, I will start on it in the morning and we’ll both get some rest,” Hank capitulates.

Alex doesn’t look completely happy, but he goes to his room anyway.

The next morning dawns much like the previous ones. Alex is late and doesn’t eat and still looks exhausted. But he’s also determined and eager to start their new plan.

After a few hours of Alex being over his shoulder and messing with his lab, though, Hank can’t take it anymore.

“Hey,” Hank says, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice though he’s pretty sure it’s a lost cause. “Why don’t you go help Sean for a while?”

“Why?” Alex asks, sullen from boredom, but genuinely confused.

“He misses you,” Hank says in a subdued voice, subdued because Sean’s loneliness is his fault.

“No, he doesn’t,” Alex says, laughing like the very idea is preposterous. “Well, I guess I am the only left who’s not busy all the time…”

Alex trails off, flicking a glass beaker with his fingernail in irritation. The carelessness with his experiments irritates Hank in turn, but Hank refuses to be distracted from what Alex said, how he seemingly doesn’t think that Sean, or maybe any of them care about him or his company.

“You were helping him train,” Hank tries, but even he knows it’s pretty weak. That’s not why Sean cares about Alex.

With a huff, Alex pushes himself away from the lab table. “Fine, you’re trying to get rid of me, I get it.”

Hank sputters but can’t come up with anything to say before Alex is walking out the door, particularly since Hank did want to get rid of Alex.   
But he didn’t expect Alex to take it with that air of resigned disappointment, like he’s used to being pushed aside.

It’s little things, that Hank obviously didn’t notice before. He knew that Alex was in prison, in foster care, but he never thought about what that really meant. He didn’t think about whether Alex would be able to defend himself in prison, didn’t think that even criminals would violate a kid still in his teens. Hank himself was rejected by parents he never knew and grew up with nuns. He had been rejected by his peers all through school for being too smart and he had been too scared to ever show his feet.

But now he thinks that Alex had it worse. He can’t imagine having grown up with this guilt of hurting someone, this fear of himself, his abilities, his emotions, his intentions. Maybe there is a reason, Alex can be so mean.

Hank follows Alex belatedly, stands in the doorway and watches Alex go up to Sean outside. He can tell even from this distance that Sean is excited to see Alex, Sean’s wide mouth going a mile a minute. But Hank can also see that Alex is still a little stiffer than he used to be with Sean, his smile a little less bright.

Still he’s happy to see Alex smile even a little. Hank forces himself to duck back inside. As much as he wants to watch Alex out in the sunshine having a little fun, he needs to finish the disc.

It’s finished by lunchtime and afterwards, Alex practically drags Hank down to the bunker wanting to try it out. But just like before, the disc in itself is not enough to give Alex control. And Alex is too weak from lack of food and lack of sleep. Instead, he just gets more and more frustrated with every miss.

“Hey,” Hank calls out, trying to interrupt Alex from firing off shot after shot, each one more uncontrolled than the last. “That’s it for today.”

Alex stops, panting and leaning against the wall. “What?” he asks like Hank is speaking some other incomprehensible language.

“I said that’s enough for today. You’re too exhausted because you haven’t been eating,” Hank explains.

“I have been eating,” Alex retorts.

“No, you haven’t,” Hank insists. “You used to eat a ton.”

“So?” Alex says, as defensive about that statement as Hank saying he didn’t eat enough. “I’m just used to fighting to my share.”

“In prison?” Hank asks, hesitantly.

“Yeah, and in juvie and foster homes. Every foster mom I ever had said the government didn’t give them enough money to feed a boy’s appetite,” Alex huffs in irritation.

“Every foster mom?” Hank asks. “How many foster homes did you have?”

“What’s with the questions?” Alex asks, pushing himself off the wall. He starts unzipping the suit, flashing a strip of perfect pale skin. “This isn’t working. I knew this wouldn’t work.”

“No, it’s just…” Hank drops his face to stare at the ground, Alex already gone.

He doesn’t run after Alex this time though. Alex ran away frustrated after trying the first disc too. Hank is fairly certain that Alex won’t be able to resist trying again.

At dinner, Hank watches Alex grudgingly eat a few extra bites, looking at Hank as if it’s only for Hank’s benefit. Alex disappears after dinner, but much later when Hank is leaving his lab, he sees the blonde going down into the bunker.

The red light isn’t on when Hank follows him down, isn’t even wearing the suit when Hank opens the door.

“You should be sleeping,” Hank says, unable to prevent himself from nagging the other mutant.

Alex scowls in response. “Can’t,” he says with a shrug.

Hank gets the feeling that Alex doesn’t want to talk about why, but he doesn’t want the conversation to end. So he tries to continue the conversation from earlier.

“So how many foster families did you have?” Hank asks, trying to seem nonchalant as he sits down against the wall.

“I don’t know, man,” Alex says, almost amused at how stubborn Hank is being. “A few.”

Hank nods, not knowing how to express how horrified he feels at this revelation, at the idea of moving from household to household as a child,   
being rejected by many so-called families, foster mothers and fathers, trying to fit in again and again.

“Because of your mutation,” Hank whispers.

Alex looks over at him. “Not exactly. Cops don’t usually see a burning house and assume it was caused by a kid shooting plasma beams out of his chest. I was an angry kid, after my parents, and then my mutation manifested…”

Hank thinks it’s interesting how Alex chose the word ‘angry’ when Hank is now pretty sure that angry is covering up guilty and scared and lonely and all kinds of other emotions.

“If it wasn’t your mutation, how did you get to prison?” Hank asks.

Alex huffs a breath. “I went to juvie first for running away and skipping school, stealing food. I was angry there too, I went to solitary.   
But then they let me out to another foster family. So I made sure I went back in until I got to prison. There, that’s my life story. Happy?” Alex asks, half teasing and half annoyed.

Hank doesn’t know what to say in response but he’s certainly not happy at hearing this information. He can’t imagine how Alex must have felt to be so scared of himself that he’d rather be in prison with men who tore at his body.

Slumping down the wall to sit beside Alex, Hank murmurs, “And I grew up with nuns, who cared about me, and fed me and clothed me, and I was only scared of people rejecting the way my feet looked.” He feels so stupid.

“But now you’re Beast,” Alex says, and he keeps talking even as Hank opens his mouth to object, “And you’re strong and fast and still a genius. You’re gonna find a way to control that mating drive, too.”

Surprised at Alex’s attempt at comfort, Hank looks over at Alex to find stormy blue eyes looking back at him. In that moment, he can’t tear his eyes away from Alex’s intense gaze, and the air around them seems heavy and still, portentous. Slowly, Hank’s attention slips lower, to those plump pink lips…

Jerking his face away, Hank berates himself silently for even thinking about kissing Alex after what he did to Alex, taken something much more intimate than a kiss. Just because Alex is being kinda nice, just because Alex isn’t repulsed by him.

Shaking his head, Hank stands up. “I’ve got an experiment going,” he excuses himself, but he doesn’t look back as he walks away.   
***

But things get better. Hank watches Alex eat a little more, spend a little more time with Sean, spends less time running away from Charles, and Hank doesn’t see the blonde in the bunker in the middle of the night again.

Alex is back in Hank’s lab too, messing with Hank’s experiments, but for some reason, Hank doesn’t seem to mind very much. And Hank is there in the bunker when Alex is practicing. He tells Alex that he’s checking on how the new disc is working, but really Hank is checking on how Alex is doing. Now that he knows about Alex’s past, it’s hard to forget. His protective feelings toward the blonde mutant make it almost impossible to be apart.

But Hank also finds himself touching Alex, a hand on Alex’s shoulder, on Alex’s back. He shouldn’t he knows, and he jerks his hand away when he notices he’s doing it again. But he can’t seem to stop. Not to mention the longing looks and secret smiles when he sees Alex happy. He feels horrible for still looking at Alex like this, for wanting Alex like he did before that awful morning, but the more time he spends with Alex, the less he can control all the protective, lustful feelings he has.

But despite Hank’s inner turmoil at being near Alex, Alex slowly gains control, little by little so that the mannequin isn’t immediately slice in half, but only on fire. And Hank himself is motivated to work on his own control, trying to isolate some of his new genes. He remembers Alex’s smell being so strong days before he lost control. That’s the key, he thinks, and he sets about creating a pheromone spray before his next heat which he presumes will be in six months.

He’s practically asleep the night it happens, the night that the mannequin simply gets pushed over slightly singed instead of disintegrating in flames. It’s enough to startle Hank awake, but it still feels like a dream as Hank is across the room in an instant and engulfing Alex’s smaller body in a big furry hug.

But it’s the feel of Alex’s tight body against him that really jerks Hank awake. It feels amazing, and all he wants to do is hold on tighter, but it’s so wrong.

Forcing himself to let Alex go, Hank is stunned when Alex tips forward and Hank feels the press of those plump lips against his own. Time seems to stop and yet there isn’t enough time for Hank to memorize everything about that moment.

With great effort, Hank jerks his face away. “Alex, no…”

Alex falls back against the wall, exhausted from his earlier practicing and looking totally crushed. “Of course,” Alex says, his voice low and wrecked. “Of course, you wouldn’t want me. I’m damaged, used, not good enough for the resident genius.”

And then Alex is gone, pushing himself off the wall and rushing toward the door. But Hank can’t let him go with those destructive thoughts in his head.

He practically rips the doors off its hinges rushing after Alex and yelling, “I want you.”

There’s a horrible silence following his words. Hank didn’t mean to say it like that, didn’t really mean to say it at all. It was just the only thing he could think of in that moment to let Alex know that he was wanted.

“The more I get to know you, the more I want you,” he continues. “But how can you possibly kiss me after what I did? You’re confused…”

“I wanted you before,” Alex says harshly.

“Before I was a blue monster,” Hank fills in sadly.

“No, before…after you were blue and before you attacked me,” Alex explains.

“And then I hurt you,” Hank growls out. “Don’t tell me that you’re ‘fine’, Alex, because I know you’re not. You’re not fine about any of it.”

“You’re right,” Alex says lowly and it sounds almost like a threat. “I feel sick when I eat, and I can’t sleep for nightmares that keep up me at night.”

Hank is beyond surprised that Alex would admit to any of that, but Alex isn’t finished.

“Who cares? What are you gonna do about it?” Alex challenges him.

Hank is really stunned now. Alex is right. He needs help, and apparently he won’t let Charles in. But how can Hank be the one to comfort Alex? But maybe he’s the only one.

“I’ll do whatever you need. You can sleep with me,” Hank offers.

“What?” Alex says sounding almost scandalized. “You won’t kiss but you wanna sleep with me?”

“Just sleep,” Hank defends himself. “I just thought it might help, not to be alone. It’s a bad idea,” he backtracks. “I’d probably scare you   
if you woke up next to me…”

“Ok,” Alex says suddenly.

“You can wear your disc if you want. It’s thinner now and you can blast me away without hurting…” Hank tries.

“Ok, c’mon,” Alex repeats.

Stunned into silence, Hank follows Alex to his bedroom. He’s scared, scared that Alex lying next to him will be too much of a temptation for his new mutation. He can’t hurt Alex again, not after everything that he’s found out. Alex has already suffered too much.

It’s awkward as they enter the bedroom. Hank goes first to turn on the bedside lamp, while Alex starts peeling off his clothes, shoes and pants and even his new vest. Alex is under the covers, already covering up that perfect skin before Hank even manages to toe his shoes off. Quickly, Hank strips down to his tshirt and boxers and slides in after Alex.

Neither of them have brushed their teeth and they’re just lying there awkwardly when Alex asks hank to turn off the light. He turns over to turn it off but when he turns back, Alex has turned on his side, facing Hank.

It reminds Hank of the point of this. Maybe he is the only one that Alex can turn to because he’s the only one who feels like this about Alex. If only Alex could really see how much everyone in the mansion cares for him.

Hank cautiously reaches out a hand, stroking it through Alex’s short blonde strands, down the side of Alex’s face. Alex sighs in response, visibly relaxing into the bed and turning further onto his stomach. Hank gently rubs his palm down Alex’s back, on top of the covers to be safe. It’s nice.

“This was a good idea,” Alex admits sleepily.


End file.
